As a poet, learning copyediting has been very helpful to me. When it comes to formatting, for the most part, poets have the creative liberty to do whatever they please. Before learning copyediting and other processing techniques used in publishing, I believed that to an extreme—putting in all sorts of strange punctuation and stanza breaks just to do so. As an editor, I cringe at that now. Not only for my lack of good reason, but also because I’ve now had to read piles upon piles of poetry, and those pieces with a ton of confusing spacing or punctuation marks are the spark of countless arguments between editors as we try to find out what is intentional, a processing error, or a simple mistake! In the early stages of acquisitions this can be solved through a simple message or email, but when we’re further along in our publishing process and working on copyediting there often simply isn’t enough time to have conversations with our authors.
Working as a copyeditor has helped me better prepare for submitting my poetry for publication and is helping me write my poetry more efficiently and concisely as well.
As editors for the CLR, it is our duty to explore, edit, and cast the works by dozens of writers and poets into a meticulously curated collection—it’s a simple trade-off: authors get to see their work selected and presented to readers, and we receive written works to then market, publish, and celebrate. Within this relationship, however, opportunity for edification and growth arises. While beginning the copyediting process, our editors do individual research on our featured writers and poets, seeking personal websites, features in other literary journals/magazines, and any other platforms they may be using to share their works. This information aids us in the marketing process, allowing for updated distribution, new opportunities for collaboration, and improved rapport with our esteemed authors.
As students, this process is especially crucial to our individual understandings of publishing—with many of us wanting to pursue editing in the future, this opportunity allows us to perform intimate research on our “case studies” for our future professions. We see first-hand the “backstage production” behind decades of the CLR, exposing many first-time editors to the nitty-gritty details and moving parts behind our journal. Because the CLR is student-run, an inevitable learning experience is thinly veiled over this careful undertaking; meaning each step, manuscript, and style sheet is under the review of keenly-peeled eyes, acquiring new details and logistical elements to cultivate and improve our publishing.
Though this operation is controlled, students orchestrate most of the “big decision-making” and are responsible for applying this personal research to our journal’s marketing plan, which varies year after year depending on what information is gathered. Because the editing world is under constant change, it’s up to us to stay on top of what, where, and how our writers are sharing their works. This follow-an-author process allows us to “stay in the loop,” keeping us uniquely updated with where our writers are appearing (e.g. Instagram, Medium, other literary magazines, etc.); this information then becoming applicable to our own literary review and marketing process.
With each year, it is our intention to continually improve, edit, and learn from these processes, fostering creativity and solidifying relationships between us and our writers, as well as discovering new methods to distribute and market our final product. The goal is never to simply regurgitate these writings, but to scrutinize and master each diligent course of action.
My earliest memory of reading involves The Hungry Caterpillar in a widely spacious library painted in primary colors that my mother would take me to. Another early memory I have was from the first eight years of my life spent in Australia, being seated cross-legged alongside my fellow young classmates having a book read to us all. The book was The Gizmo by Paul Jennings. Skipping ahead, I recall being introduced to Margaret Peterson Haddix’s Shadow Children series. The first book captivated me. I ended up binging through the rest of the series at home, then laying on my couch reading The Missing series, lost in a book from start to finish for three hours straight.
These days I’ve fallen off a bit with how I’ve become someone who accidentally hoards library books they’ve been meaning to read but haven’t been able to get to. On the other hand, I’ve certainly been someone who accidentally stayed up overnight consumed by the need to finish a rich long fanfic with engaging stories and concepts that explored what canon tales overlooked. Personally, I’ve often found I feel my way through a text. It also affects how I write, usually with me considering a character’s inner ‘voice’ or thought process. Reading for me usually involves imagining accompanying cinematographic visuals; my finger constantly on prose’s pulse, trying to pick up rhythmic structure. In the best summary, I’ve become someone who enjoys picking apart text intuitively and taking into stock how an author’s values, worldviews, and even creative process shape their work.
What I’ve found really interesting regarding my fellow editors is that everyone appears to enjoy being challenged. Being moved by text. I’m really fascinated with the fact that my peers look to be actively provoked in terms of an emotional response—even if that may be anger or discomfort. I think it’s very valuable, and that it’s significant to also be equipped with the tools to be able to unpack or be willing to explore just why that is. With all this in mind—seeing how my reading history, and remembering the qualities of stories that have moved me in the past, paired with observing what my peers like to read—it certainly affects our collective outlook on how we editors approach looking at poetry and prose submissions to consider for publication. It allows for some fascinating and insightful discussions as well, from the perspective of readers, editors, and budding writers!
CLACKAMAS LITERARY REVIEW 